


Everything's Alright, Yes, Everything's Fine

by maddieaddam



Series: General Tumblr ficlets [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Almost gen but not quite, Comfort, Gen, Implied Feelings, M/M, Sick Character, Very loosely implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddieaddam/pseuds/maddieaddam
Summary: "And we want you to sleep well tonight, let the world turn without you tonight," or: Carwood finally takes a damn nap in a damn bed.





	Everything's Alright, Yes, Everything's Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruinsrebuilt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruinsrebuilt/gifts).



> This is a work of fiction inspired by and only intended to represent the roles played in the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers. No disrespect is meant to the real men of Easy Company.
> 
> Lyrics/title are from Everything's Alright by Webber/Rice. A little comfort ficlet for Ash <3

Luz wants to roll his eyes when he comes back to the commissary and finally finds Lip curled up in one of the beds in the next room instead of on the couch. He really does, because it took so long to convince the hard-headed bastard, and he wouldn’t even listen to Speirs’s order to find a more comfortable resting place; it’s worthy of a good laugh and eyeroll, and maybe a quick jab that’s only half at his expense, like asking if someone had to knock him out and he’s restrained under the covers to keep him there.

The thing is, Luz is just too relieved to turn the sight into a joke. That’s what he _does_ , the clearest and most distinctive part of his personality even when he’s exhausted enough for the jokes to turn tetchy, but this isn’t a funny sight. This is such a relief that his knees almost give out beneath him, because while he knows the same spirit that kept bringing injured guys back to Bastogne is the one that kept Lip up and working, he also knows he couldn’t bear to see that spirit forever snuffed out by _pneumonia._

“That’s better,” he says softly, moving to stand beside the bed where Lip appears, at least, to be asleep. “Snug as a bug in a rug, now. Just take care of yourself a little, you tenacious son of a bitch, that’s all we ask.”

A weak voice rises from beneath the mound of blankets: “I didn’t mean to worry anyone…”

_Now_ Luz rolls his eyes, but also musses Lip’s hair with affection; he says nothing about how alarmingly hot Lip’s forehead feels to the touch. “Well, ya did. Too late. You know what fixed it, though? This, so keep it up awhile.” Something keeps him there, fingers playing through Lip’s fair hair, so eventually he adds: “Need anything? Other than some paperwork to get through while -”

“Can you keep doing that?” Lip asks, his voice still distant and thin, and the fact that he hasn’t opened his eyes once makes Luz wonder if he’s half-asleep. Maybe he’s drifting in the glassy semi-consciousness of fever, where impressions and sensations come through so much more clearly than reality, like watching the world from underwater.

He’d certainly never ask for something like that if he were lucid. Luz can see why it would feel pleasant with his fingertips still chilled from outside, but…

But he’s resting, and he’s asking for something to soothe his discomfort, and does anything else really matter?

“Yessir,” Luz says lightly as he perches on the edge of the bed. The minutes that pass in that quiet room, where Luz has no more pressing responsibility than soothing Lip back to sleep with his touch, are also the most soothing _he’s_ passed in as long as he can remember.


End file.
